


something that lasts forever

by seventeenspimp (pliable_cedar)



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff without Plot, Just Married, M/M, Slow Dancing, gratuitous employment of christmas carols, just the softest sappiest thing you can imagine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 17:14:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13081500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pliable_cedar/pseuds/seventeenspimp
Summary: Everything magical and wonderful about Seokmin's life with Minghao seems even more surreal at Christmas time.(Seokmin and Minghao's first Christmas Eve as a married couple)





	something that lasts forever

**Author's Note:**

> I really, sincerely apologise for all the corniness, and especially for all the Michael Buble. This is heavily inspired by all the soft seokhao we've been getting lately, which just warms my heart right up, so enjoy! Title is from "Cold December Night"

“This was really a lot of fun,” Joshua says, as he and Jeonghan stand at the door, putting on their coats and preparing themselves to face the cold outside.

“You should definitely consider making it a tradition,” Jeonghan adds, giving Seokmin a wide smile that’s only a tiny bit impish.

Seokmin rolls his eyes good naturedly, “You just want somewhere to stuff your face and get drunk every Christmas Eve for free.”

Jeonghan gasps, “Are you saying that we would come here for any reason other than to spend time with all our closest friends, in the warmth of our favourite dongsaengs’ new home? Josh, can you believe the audacity?”

Josh lets out a sigh and shrugs, shaking his head as he hands Jeonghan his scarf, “Kids these days.”

Just then, there comes a shout from the kitchen, “Seokmin, hurry up and kick those old geezers out in the snow already!”

Jeonghan and Joshua share a glance, then they’re wearing matching smirks, which unsettles Seokmin to the core, and makes him all the more eager to follow Minghao’s instructions. “Anyway, we’ll get out of your hair now,” Jeonghan finishes tying his scarf, but his evil smirk remains intact, “Thank you, again, for having us.”

Seokmin pulls open the front door for them with a fond, but exasperated smile, “It’s our pleasure, really.”

“We hope you enjoy the rest of your night,” Joshua chimes in, already halfway out the door, “with Minghao. In your new house.”

“On your first Christmas Eve as a married couple,” Jeonghan throws in at the end, and Seokmin is about ready to slam the door in their faces. Lovingly, of course.

Joshua grins, “Bye Seok,” and then into the house he yells, “Bye Minghao!” And with that they’re gone.

After he shuts the door behind them and watches their car turn down the street through the window, he wanders back into the living room; he sees Minghao come in on the opposite side of the room, and drop himself down on the couch, head lolling back onto the cushions. Seokmin leans against the doorway where he’s standing, and when his husband finally looks up at him with a soft smile, he feels the slight chill from outside melt away.

“That’s the last of them,” Seokmin informs, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Josh and Jeonghan are always gonna be the last ones to leave, aren’t they?” Minghao asks the question but both of them already know the answer. “Next time, we should at least make them help us clean up.”

“Next time?” Seokmin raises his eyebrows, a teasing tone to his words. “We’re planning on doing this again, then?”

Minghao lets out a soft groan, closes his eyes for a moment before lifting his head, and Seokmin doesn’t know why, but his heart jumps a little. “I guess? It was fun having everyone together again, and I like being the ones to host, as much work as it was.” Then, he sits up properly and leans forward to grab his phone off the coffee table, where it was connected to the speaker, playing soft Christmas tunes all evening.

“There’s still work left, you know,” Seokmin throws his eyes around the room; there’s half empty cups and plates sitting on almost every flat surface in the room, a few serving trays on the coffee table that now only hold crumbs, and the couches and chairs have been moved around haphazardly to accommodate all their guests. But under the glow of their Christmas tree lights, and the glittering of the tinsel and the ornaments that he had insisted they put up _everywhere_ , the room looks homey and warm, like love and joy were familiar faces here.

Even with everyone else gone, Seokmin still feels it, because Minghao is still here, sitting right among the mess, the dim lighting reflected by his silky green shirt, the matching one to Seokmin’s red, and a little Christmas tree earring dangling from his ear. He’s just scrolling on his phone, two fingers playing with his lip mindlessly, but he always makes everything seem perfectly complete, at least in Seokmin’s eyes.

“We can worry about that later,” he mumbles, still very focused on finding whatever he’s looking for on his phone. It seems like he finds it, because suddenly, the silence is broken by the jazzy bass and woodwinds of what _has_ to be one of Michael Bublé’s Christmas songs. Knowing Minghao, it’s probably the entire Christmas album. “Aha!” he exclaims, finally looking up at Seokmin again and grinning, “Just because everyone else is gone, doesn’t mean the party has to be over.” Then, in a more commanding tone, “Dance for me.”

Seokmin immediately obeys, peeling himself off the wall and shuffling towards the centre of the room in time with the beat, arriving in front of Minghao just in time to start.

“ _Santa baby…_ ” he croons, rolling his shoulders and snapping his fingers, schooling his face into what he hopes looks like a smoulder, “… _slip a Rolex under the tree, for me_.” He swishes his hips back and forth, and bats his eyelashes, in an effort to show just how good he’s been. “ _I’ve been an awful good boy._ ”

“It’s ‘guy’!” Minghao yells gleefully over the music, but Seokmin carries on his show unfazed.

“ _Santa buddy…”_

“No homo!” Minghao adds ironically, grooving along from his seat.

Seokmin grins at him, spreading his arms wide for the bridge, “ _Think of all the fun I’ve missed! Think of all the hotties that I never kissed…”_

_“_ Hey!” Minghao interjects at that, but Seokmin just winks and shrugs his shoulders, resuming his shuffling and snapping. The music cuts off just as Seokmin is making a circle around the room, and a more upbeat tune with lots of trumpets starts up instead. “That’s enough of that one,” Minghao explains.

Seokmin is nothing if not adaptable, so he picks up the pace with some jazz squares that he can barely keep up with, looking right at Minghao with an exaggerated open mouthed smile. “ _Frosty the Snowman, was a jolly, happy soul!”_ He sings as brightly as he can.

Minghao is giggling his head off, but manages to say, “You’re dancing and singing two different tempos.”

“We can’t all be perfect, Minghao!” he throws back, grin never faltering. He comes back in louder than before, “ _There must have been some magic in that old top hat they found, for when they placed it on his head, he began to dance around!”_ At those words, he reaches out to the coffee table and picks up what he hopes is a clean paper cup, positioning it over his head like a miniature top hat, moving it out to the sides as he dances.

Minghao’s laughter hasn’t come close to dying down yet, he’s cheering and clapping enthusiastically at all of Seokmin’s silly antics, which only makes him want to dance harder, do sillier things, if it’ll keep Minghao laughing. That could be a summary of his entire life at this point.

He doesn’t remember most of the lyrics to _Frosty the Snowman_ , but he dances his heart out and shouts a word here and there as he remembers it, which only makes his husband giggle harder.

“Okay, okay! Enough,” Minghao exclaims through his breathlessness, grabbing his phone to change the song yet again.

“You said enough?” Seokmin questions, with his hands on his hips, taking a blessed moment to catch his breath.

Minghao grins cheekily, as the light tapping of a hi-hat comes through the speakers. “Yea, of that song.”

The smooth bass comes in next, and Seokmin recognises the song, “You have to do this one with me then.” The look he gets is sceptical, but Seokmin doesn’t expect to be left hanging. _“You better watch out, you better not cry, you better not pout I’m telling you why,”_ he wags his finger in reprimand at Minghao, giving him a warning look in fitting with the song’s lyrics, _“Santa Claus is coming to town.”_

When the trumpets blow, loud and piercing, Minghao finally gets up and makes his grand entrance to their make believe stage, and Seokmin steps back to give him his rightful place. _“He’s making a list, he’s checking it twice! He’s gonna find out who’s naughty or nice,”_ he sings clear and smooth, and he’s getting fully into it, shaking his hips slow, eyes hooded and looking at Seokmin a little too seductively for a song about Santa Claus, _“Santa Claus is coming to town.”_

Seokmin is loving every second of this, deciding to himself that watching Minghao do this is ten times more enjoyable than doing it himself, which is probably the same thing Minghao had been thinking. When the next part comes in they sing together, trying to sync up their cabaret style dance moves, but failing miserably, which becomes them only managing to get the words out in between their laughter.

Seokmin hears as the band comes back in bigger than before, and he knows the end is coming, so he shouts at Minghao, “Big finish!”

They rush over to wrap their arms around each other’s shoulders. _“He’s coming to town!”_ They sing at the top of their lungs, finishing up with their own version of a kick line, then breaking apart to strike a pose with the final trumpet blow.

In the silence that follows, they both collapse onto the ground, breathing heavily but smiling hard; Minghao sprawls out on his back, his eyes squeezed shut and his chest heaving, while Seokmin sits and pulls his knees close to his chest, just taking in the stillness of Minghao’s features. It might be a little creepy for him to admire Minghao like this, without him knowing, but they’re married now, so he supposes it’s not as bad as it could be. The next song that plays is a slower one, an orchestra of strings leading it in, and Minghao opens his eyes to meet Seokmin’s, reaches over and tangles their fingers together carelessly.

His breathing is even again, but honestly, Seokmin’s gets even more irregular, the way it always does when Minghao starts to look at him like _that_ ; his eyes shine with pride and admiration and joy, and it makes Seokmin feel entirely overwhelmed and entirely undeserving, but he knows it’s a testament to how much Minghao truly does love him. After all this time together, he’s still not used to it.

Minghao sits up, bringing the look in his eyes even closer, and Seokmin pleads with his heart to calm down. “Dance with me,” it’s more of a command than a request, but that’s just how he is.

“We just danced to that last song together,” Seokmin argues, but Minghao is already getting to his feet, their hands still linked together.

“No, you clown,” he tugs on Seokmin’s hand as he gets up as well, “That’s not what I mean.”

He doesn’t have to explain further for Seokmin to know what he means; the first verse of _Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas_ is almost done when Seokmin pulls Minghao in, one hand on his waist and the other still holding Minghao’s own lightly, close to his chest, as they begin to move in the smallest of steps. Seokmin wants to think he’s leading, but he’s never been the one good at dancing, so he’s content with just the warmth of Minghao’s body pressed against his as they sway side to side.

“Sorry I can’t waltz you around the room like a prince,” Seokmin apologises in a whisper, and Minghao looks at him like he’s something both odd and amusing.

“This song isn’t even a waltz, Seok,” he smiles fondly, softening his voice as well. From this close, Seokmin can see bits of stray glitter stuck to his nose and cheeks, perhaps from the decorations or from Seungkwan’s jacket tonight, and for a moment he thinks Minghao could easily be a fairy or an elf prince with sparkling freckles across his face. He’s always had a taste for mischief, and he elicits a certain sense of wonder from Seokmin, so he wouldn’t be surprised if it turned out that the man he’d married was a little more than human.

Seokmin smiles to himself, and his mind jumps to another thought, “We danced a waltz at our wedding, didn’t we?”

“We did,” Minghao affirms, “You don’t even remember the steps, do you.” His tone is accusatory, but he’s still got a little smile on his face too.

He shrugs sheepishly as an answer, and Minghao just shakes his head in mock disappointment. Seokmin kisses the tip of his nose in apology, “I didn’t think I needed to remember it _after_ the wedding, babe.” Minghao’s cheeks flush, and he’s silent for a moment, looking off over Seokmin’s shoulder.

He wants to ask Minghao what he’s thinking, but before he can, the hand that’s in his is pulled away, and Minghao wraps his arms around his shoulders instead, pulling him closer; their foreheads touch gently and Seokmin’s now free hand floats to Minghao’s waist. “We should’ve danced to Christmas music at our wedding,” Minghao finally says, in a voice so quiet it’s almost inaudible, if not for his proximity.

Seokmin lets out a small puff of breath in place of a laugh, eyes crinkling at the corners at the proposition, “We got married in April, Minghao.” He only says it because he feels like he should; he agrees entirely, wishes that the thought would’ve occurred to him nine months ago.

Minghao sighs. “We should’ve gotten married in December, then,” he amends, wearing a slight pout that only makes Seokmin want to kiss him. “We could’ve had the cheesiest, Christmas themed wedding, with all the colourful lights, and tinsel draped on everything, and like, ten Christmas trees.”

There’s a dreamy tone to Minghao’s voice now, and Seokmin guesses he’s picturing everything in his mind. “ _Ten_ Christmas trees?” he questions.

“Ten big ones,” Minghao clarifies, looking Seokmin straight in the eye, the lights on the Christmas tree behind him reflecting like tiny stars in his eyes. Seokmin feels like such a sap, but Minghao is certainly just as bad. “But also a ton of those miniature ones, as centrepieces for the tables,” and honestly, Seokmin loves the idea.

He’s so overwhelmed by the feeling that he can’t hold himself back anymore, and finally leans forward to kiss his husband, like he’s been wanting to for ages.

He knows he tends to be a drama queen about most things, especially when it comes to Minghao, but a single kiss from him always makes Seokmin feel more alive than before, like he’s rediscovered his purpose in the world. Minghao responds instantly, like it’s wired into him, hands sliding a little into the hair at the nape of Seokmin’s neck, while Seokmin’s grip on his waist tightens.

Minghao’s nose is cold pressed against his cheek as he turns his head, and his fingers are cold against Seokmin’s neck, and all Seokmin wants to do is warm him up.

Much to his dismay, Minghao pulls away slightly, “You really like that idea, huh?” he jokes, but Seokmin is too dazed to say something witty.

Instead, he says, “You taste like gingerbread.”

Minghao grins and kisses him deeply again, making Seokmin’s stomach do somersaults, but it ends way too quickly. “And you taste like eggnog,” he supplies.

Seokmin really wants to complain about the extended period of time that Minghao’s lips aren’t on his, but the thought dies quickly when he presses his lips down the side of his neck instead.

Seokmin swallows hard, trying with all his might to formulate a sentence, while Minghao is being so incredibly distracting. “Do we have to be anywhere tomorrow?” he manages, barely.

Minghao looks back up at him and smirks, “Not until dinner at your parents’.”

With one swift motion, Seokmin sweeps his husband off his feet like a princess, and like the noble prince he is, he carries the giggling Minghao out of the living room, and down the hall to their bedroom. They can worry about the mess later.

 

**Author's Note:**

> merry christmas, to everyone who celebrates it! feedback is always much, much appreciated, so pls leave a comment, or hmu on [tumblr](bright-hao.tumblr.com) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/seventeenspimp)


End file.
